


it's only a matter of time

by nbsherlock



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Fix-It, Fluff, M/M, Parenthood, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-17 21:01:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9344336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nbsherlock/pseuds/nbsherlock
Summary: love is... simpler. something not so taboo, so easy to express, so easy to feel. sherlock feels it every time he wakes up, throughout his entire day, every time he falls asleep.





	

**Author's Note:**

> a short phone drabble w no caps and no beta-ing. wrote it really fast because i need to fix my own existential angst. enjoy!!

time passes, as it tends to do.

john moves back into baker street, wakes up under the same roof as sherlock. drinks tea in his chair while rosie sleeps in her cot. it becomes home, again. the domesticity so welcome and sweet after the harsh edge of distrust and the healing of a grieving heart. an itchy trigger finger, a memory of revenge that feels less real over time.

john takes off his ring, one night. the weight lifted is immediate. he sets it on the table next to his chair and breathes. a year prior he'd be drinking, stewing in his own anger and numbing leftover pain. now, he just breathes. he sits and thinks until sherlock comes up the stairs, home from wherever it is he goes, and plucks the ring from the table.

they don't mention it again.

it is for the best. the clock turns again and again and again.

\--

sherlock is good with rosie. he loves her, that much is clear. it isn't apparent to john whether or not he still thinks of her as an extension of mary, or as a part of his family-- their family. the one they built out of rubble.

he holds her and feeds her and burps her and lays her down to sleep and kisses her forehead, smooths her hair back, says, "sweet dreams, rosie." and then sits on the couch next to john and dozes off alongside him.

time passes. it passes so naturally, which is new. there are not awful milestones that mark the turning of a page in their lives. rosie grows, cases are solved. they fall asleep on the couch, sherlock's head against john's shoulder.

they move as two, so close to becoming one that there is friction when they touch.

\--

and then there is a new chapter, all at once. john is at a pub with greg, not drinking but comfortable, relaxed. a young woman with curled dark hair slips him her number. the turning point, finally. a shock to his system as he realizes:

he doesn't want to meet a woman with mischief in her eyes and intent on her lips. he has someone waiting at home.

\--

time, forever an ally and an enemy. john falls asleep in sherlock's bed and sherlock stays up all night and watches him breathe. no one jolts from sleep in the throes of a nightmare, they curl in and in and in until they fold into eachother. in this way, they become one.

\--

"rosie's crying," sherlock mumbles. his voice is muffled in john's hair. his body aches from exertion, a quick case and a lazy fuck.

"mm," john agrees. "your turn?"

"are we... taking turns? have we been..." his voice slurs off. "mmmaybe, it's my turn."

john makes a positive noise as sherlock shuffles out of bed. "love you," he murmurs.

sherlock smiles, the sound of it in his voice, "love you too."

\--

love is... simpler. something not so taboo, so easy to express, so easy to feel. sherlock feels it every time he wakes up, throughout his entire day, every time he falls asleep. he nudges his nose against john's jawline in their bed and kisses his neck.

love is... things he doesn't think about. not before, not during, not after. twining his fingers with john's at a crime scene. kissing him just outside the door of their home, john's tongue tracing his lower lip, a delighted moan that should embarrass him leaving his throat.

he doesn't think about them because they come so naturally, so easily. sometimes, at night, he wonders if they always would've come that easy. before this all. he thinks about reaching across the breakfast table and holding john's hand. of being kissed against the wall after a case, just after "you invaded afghanistan", breathless with adrenaline. even still, he wonders if then, it would've felt this simple.

\--

"s'been six months," john murmurs. he's on his back next to sherlock, who is a bit breathless and a lot flushed.

"has it?"

"wasn't even keeping track. greg texted me." rolls his head over to look at sherlock. his lower lip is bruised and swollen. he looks...

"six months," sherlock says to the ceiling.

john dredges up all of his residual energy and crawls over to sherlock. leans over him. kisses his lower lip once, twice.

"sorry," he whispers.

sherlock's eyebrows knit. "what for?"

"took so long."

sherlock closes his eyes and huffs. "wouldn't be so easy back then."

"you don't think?" john kisses his nose.

"no. too busy pretending i cared more about the work than you."

"ah, yeah," john jokes. "the good old days."

"shuttup," sherlock slurs. "they were awful. i was awful."

john kisses him again, because he can. "you weren't awful."

sherlock fixes him with a look.

john grins. "okay, we were both awful. so i s'pose i'm not sorry, huh?"

"rosie," sherlock says, eyes closing.

john smooths his hair back, tangling fingers into curls. "what about her?"

"wouldn't have her."

the air gets thick. "that's true," john says. "sherlock..."

sherlock opens his eyes, glossy with exhaustion.

"i love you."

sherlock smiles,

"i love you, too."

\--

time, their greatest ally and their greatest enemy. something criminal, something so... sweet. so soft, gentle. meant to aide the broken, to right wrongs.

to give strength and the nerve to say what you feel, what you've always felt. again and again and again and again.

time passes, yes. but it is not a curse, not a measure of distance apart, like before. it passes and it is not noticed at all.

 

**Author's Note:**

> hmu @nbsherlock on tumblr. comments & kudos appreciated!


End file.
